He grins at you, shaking his head slightly. "You know some people might say you're asking for it."
You're not quite sure how long you've been playing this game for. It's a battle of wills. And you have no intention of letting Van win...
Warnings: Th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You can tell that Van's in a temper as soon as you enter the kitchen the following day when you turn up for work. He doesn't even notice that you've walked in, he's over the far side, turned away from you and talking on his mobile.
"You're joking aren't you?" He almost growls down the phone.
You busy yourself with making the teas and coffees for the guests, listening in with interest to what's riled up Van. He finally turns to see you there when he hears the cups clattering, but his attention is firmly on the argument he's having. He's pacing up and down now, running his hand through his hair as he speaks.
"Well you know where you can stick your fucking contract don't you? I didn't even sign anything!"
More harsh words and expletives are exchanged before Van ends the call, muttering something about his manager, then he stalks off into the garden.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You wander outside later during your break. There's still no respite from the punishing heatwave that's been relentless for days now. Despite the midday heat Van's out there in his skinny black jeans and a black t-shirt, but somehow still managing to look cool. He's strumming idly on an acoustic guitar, cigarette hanging from his lips, stopping every now and again to scribble something in a notebook on the table in front of him.
You can tell he's still moody as you take the seat beside him. He barely looks up, huffing and puffing as he scribbles out something that he's written in the notebook and scrawling something else in its place. He's messing around with lyrics, singing lines, strumming a few chords. He's actually got a beautiful voice but you wouldn't tell him that. You prefer to rub him up the wrong way, provoke a reaction. Part of you knows it would be wrong to wind him up today when he's obviously already in a foul mood but you just can't help yourself. It excites you when he has that edge to him.
"If you ask me, I'd change those lyrics."
"Didn't fucking ask you did I?" He finally looks up, eyes flashing with anger.
You don't take heed, further needling him. "I mean who sings about being a test tube baby? Sounds a bit shit."
You actually think it's pretty original. He's definitely got a talent. That's what you should tell him, give him a compliment for a change.
